Stars & Stripes
by Around Here Somewhere
Summary: It's 1944, and America's in the midst of its involvement in World War II. Olivia Pope is an Army Nurse, stationed in England with Sergeant Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, the grumpy, sometimes brooding leader, and Private Jacob Ballard, the cocky military brat.
1. February, 1944 - Part I

Disclaimer: I do not own Scandal, I promise.

A/N: Ok, so this one's obviously set in 1944. So, it's going to have segregation as part of the story – just to warn you all now. I'm not sure of writing a piece in this time period, so you guys have to let me know what you think. The premise is that Olivia is an army nurse stationed in England in World War II, and Sergeant Major Grant and – yeah, you all read the description. First chapter's short, because first chapter… Enjoy, my friends :)

Stars and Stripes

February, 1944 – Part I:

The world was a whole hell of a lot different then when she was a little girl. America had been attacked, and the next thing she knew she and all her friends had signed up to help the cause. The Army needed nurses, and they were willing to train them. So as she sat at a pub in London, watching the clock as her friends sat chatting. She played with the rim of her glass, it was boring, but there were only so many places they could go for a few hours on their nights off to get away from base. The nights they still had curfew, but had to get away for a bit. That was the challenge. And, only having been there for a few weeks, none of them were quite sure how to get in a few minutes past bed checks without being punished.

"Olivia, are you even listening?" Her friend Annie asked as she leaned back in her chair.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Olivia checked, and the other girls laughed, "The only way I could possibly not be listening to you was if I were a mile away, or something."

"Anyway," Annie took a breath before continuing on about the new recruits that had just shown up on base.

The new recruits had actually arrived about the same time that they had – her and Annie. Maybe a week after they had gotten settled in. But, they had been so busy training, giving out shots and taking care of their soldiers, that they hadn't been able to take 'proper inventory' of the newer soldiers. Olivia knew that most of the Army nurses had joined up to help either because they came from a military family, and wanted to serves – or they wanted to travel, and find a husband. For most of them it seemed it was the latter – but for Olivia it was neither.

"Liv," Annie seemed to cut herself off as she checked her watch, "We should get going, right?"

"We should," Olivia nodded in agreement as they got up from the table they had been sitting around.

"Curfew's not for another hour," Kate complained, and Olivia rolled her eyes.

"We have the early shift tomorrow morning," Olivia explained as they headed towards the exit of the pub.

The pub that they were allowed into was farther away from the rest of the pubs that the people from the base went to. It also happened to be down one of the sketchiest side streets Olivia had ever seen. The men's lounge was the closest to the base, but for white men only. Next was the white women's lounge, about a quarter of a mile down from there. Then, about a mile from base was what she was told was the same sort of set up, only it was designated specifically for black men and black women. She was told that it was the same sort of set up, but she didn't believe it – she never had. It was just about the same way on the base, except it was smaller – so they didn't have room to have completely separate everything for everyone. 'Normal' bases were different, everyone was all one color – but in the middle of a war, it didn't quite work that way. Funny how that worked. It was what it was – not that that was ok with her – but for the education and experience she was getting – it was more than her mother had gotten.

"Liv, I know that look," Annie said as they passed over onto the main street, "Stop all your thinking, you're going to get us in trouble again."

"Some punishment we got for it, this place is beautiful," Olivia replied, and Annie shook her head.

"Do you realize how close to France we are right now?" Annie pointed out, "Like occupied France, with Nazi's and blood…"

Olivia rolled her eyes – it didn't really matter where they were, did it?

"We really ended up in a nice place," Annie agreed, looking up at the buildings.

Nice. Right. A place where they had to occupy a certain section of the canteen, and certain portions of the hospital wing. And she had to sit across the canteen from women who didn't have to be there. The women who didn't have to join the Army to get any sort of education, and she could hate them. Hate them because they were the ones that were there to find a husband, to travel – sure, they were all seeing the same things, but intent mattered. They could go to school – to college – and all they were doing was making sandwiches and giving the men their shots. A good and worthy cause – someone had to do it. But the jealousy was enough of a cloud to make her physically angry.

"Name for check in," Jake asked as they came up to the desk, "Oh – hi, Olivia. – Er, Annie."

"Private Ballard," Olivia replied rather coolly.

Jake was on tonight as punishment for something stupid he had done earlier on in the week. Which, was fairly typical. She was pretty sure he wouldn't act out nearly as much if he didn't get so much attention for it, kind of like a child. Sergeant Major Grant would give an order, and Jake would say something witty and honestly a little less than charming, and then Private Ballard would brag about it to all the nurses – as long as they had a pulse – and then the next time he said anything at all Grant would punish him with making him take extra check-in duty. Which, usually, he used to hit on more girls anyway, as they were checking back in. Tonight seemed to be no different.

"And where were you lovely ladies off to this evening?" He asked as he checked them off on the list that had left for the evening, "Because I'm sure I'd have liked to stop by there…"

"Private Ballard."

The stern voice of Sergeant Major Grant echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings. The back of her neck felt hot, a weird feeling that always managed to come over her whenever he was involved. He was tall, taller than most of the other men on the base, or maybe it was simply a function of how he carried himself. He was – different – he was allowed a slightly shaggy, though slicked haircut, due to his rank. But even however much oil and wax he put in it, you could still tell if it were left on its own it would be curly. Impossibly curly. He was distant, not quite as jovial as Ballard – but no one was. Grant was weathered, he had been there much longer. But then, there were his eyes. She couldn't really remember anyone's eyes, because she wasn't used to people making a point of looking into other people's eyes when they were speaking. With the men, it was a function of intimidation. She couldn't imagine anything being more terrifying than his ice blue – almost gray – eyes staring down from that height. With the women – the nurses, all the nurses – it was different. It was a softer look, not by much, just a little bit.

"Yes, Sir," Jake replied, stood up as Grant approached his desk.

"Stop making a mockery of this base," Grant barked at him, "You're on extra duty as a punishment, Private Ballard. These two ladies are coming back before curfew, so they can get up early and take care of people. That is a respect and dedication that I have never seen from you. So, check the girls in, and tell them – politely – to have a nice rest of their evening."

"Yes, sir," Jake replied, checking their names off as they started to scurry by the checkpoint.

"Miss Pope. Miss Smith," Grant stopped them again in a few feet.

"Yes, sir?" Annie replied.

"Would you two mind my company on the walk back to your quarters? I have to check on the East gate as part of my duties. I usually check it later, but – if you wanted an escort."

Olivia was about to speak up and tell him that they were fine. That they could take care of themselves. This was when Annie's elbow ended up somewhere in Olivia's ribcage.

"Of course, sir," Annie replied for both of them.

"I can't apologize enough for Ballard," Grant told them as he walked them across the yard, "He'll run twice what he should tomorrow. And I'll have to find a new punishment for him in future."

"The kitchen staff always needs more help," Olivia piped up, knowing that she sounded a little disrespectful, but it came out before she could filter it.

Annie went silent, and shot Olivia a look like 'Oh, here we go again'. However, to both of their surprise, Grant chuckled.

"Good idea," He said, surprising them once again, "I'll have to talk to Cook in the morning and see if we can figure something out. For the next time he acts up."

"You're a good man, Sir," Annie commented as they came up on Olivia and Annie's building.

"Well, I try," He said, as he opened the door for them, "Be sure to let me know if any of my soldiers, any of them, ever give you two trouble. Go on now, it's lights out in an hour. I have to get back to oversee people getting back before curfew. Have a nice night, girls."

They didn't talk much as they headed up to the room they shared with two other girls. They laid out their clothes for the next morning, and washed up in the hallway shared bathroom. There were always perks to getting before curfew, and before everyone was running around before lights out. They could take their time getting ready for bed. Which, Olivia was convinced that they had an easier time getting out in the morning. It wasn't until they were climbing into their bunks that Annie broke the silence.

"There's something weird about Grant," She said, as if it had been puzzling her.

"Weird how?" Olivia asked, and Annie just made a rustling noise.

"I don't know," She said, as they heard the usual noise on the stairs that meant the rest of the girls were back, "Night, Liv. Make sure I'm up, ok?"

"Will do," Olivia replied, taking a deep breath as she rolled over in her bunk.


	2. February, 1944 - Part II

A/N: So, thanks for all the reviews! This one's a little more slow going than my usual speed, but I'm also much busier than I have been. So, Enjoy the new chapter!

Stars & Stripes

February, 1944 – Part II:

Fitz was, as a perk of his rank, living in a sort of mansion house within the base he was on. It wasn't all on his own, he lived with the rest of the commanding officers, and ones with ranking above what would stay in the barracks. The only other officer on the base that was of about his rank was Eric. Except Fitz wasn't exactly sure what exact rank Eric was, because he was part of the British Army, and was living on the base as a function of them working together as a team. His room was next to Fitz's on the top floor, and from what he had been able to piece together, Eric had been given a sort of liaison job as an exchange for not choosing to take an 'out' when they had offered it to him. Regardless, Eric's knowledge was helpful with training the troops, and he helped Fitz, sitting in on most of the drills. A good man.

"Morning, Grant," Eric said as Fitz straightened his uniform, each of them stepping out into the hallway.

"Morning," Fitz mumbled slightly as they headed down the steps to the front door to get out into the yard.

"They're already up," It came out as an observation, but Fitz knew it was a question, or more likely an accusation.

The other men, the black platoon that inhabited the base was already doing laps around the yard. His platoon, the ones he ran into the ground so that when they were needed, they were ready to go – were still sleeping in their bunks. Which was what they were supposed to be doing, because their drills didn't start for another hour. He couldn't make eye contact with Eric.

"I really don't get you Americans," Eric shook his head as they headed into the canteen to get the official mail orders for the next week, "Why? I don't get why you have to do everything separately. Why everything's so – fucked up."

"Not my rules," Fitz said, grumbling slightly, "Believe me, if I could change them, I would."

"Yeah," Eric took a deep breath as Fitz opened up the letter.

"Dammit," Fitz said, crumpling the envelope, and putting the letter part into his shirt pocket.

"What?"

"Orders are still the same," Fitz replied as they walked by where Cook was starting up breakfast, so it would be ready for after everyone's morning workouts, "Cook?"

"Yes, Sir," The head cook, Nathan, poked his head around the corner.

"It seems I need to be a little more creative with doling out punishments," Fitz said, "How many plates do you have at the end of the night?"

"About three for every person on this base," Nathan replied, "Sometimes more, depending on the day. We usually don't have time to clean 'em right before meals."

"So it would be safe to say that you could use some extra help?" Fitz said, and Nathan raised his eyebrows.

"Are you serious?"

Fitz nodded.

"Expect at least one of them to report here after dinner," Fitz said, and Nathan smiled.

"I will, Sir."

"I'll give you a real number, and names at dinner," Fitz said, "Tell me at breakfast if someone doesn't show up?"

"Absolutely, Sir."

"It's better than the alternative, isn't it?" Eric pointed out once Fitz and Nathan were done talking, and they headed back out to the yard, towards where Fitz's platoon was starting to file out of their barracks.

"I don't know that it is," Fitz replied as the men slowly got ready, before they really needed to be ready to go, "If they're getting bored, they're not learning. If they're not learning, they're going to get lazy, confident. I think Private Ballard is a very clear example of that. We're going to end up over there…"

"Take my word for it," Eric said, taking a deep breath, "And start praying that Hitler is taken down before you have to."

"Somehow I don't see that happening."

"Mmm."

"That bad?" Fitz asked, and Eric sighed as they headed towards the obstacle course that the men were to meet them at after their morning laps.

"Did I ever tell you why they offered me an out?" Eric asked, and Fitz shook his head as they started to set the course up from the night before.

"No," Fitz replied as they went back to the front of the course, "You never said, so I never asked."

"Mmm," Eric mumbled as they started to wait for the platoon, Fitz checked his watch – they had five minutes, "I was told to take my – what is it you guys call it – platoon – did I tell you I was a pilot?"

"Seriously?" Fitz asked, and Eric nodded.

"The Nazi's shot us all down before we could even see 'em," Eric told him, "They offered me an out because I was the only one left. This was after I served on the ground in France. Trust me, you want to keep these boys over here as long as you can – Even Ballard."

"Ballard's an army brat," Fitz told him, as watched the platoon coming up on the course, and therefore them, "That's the worst part. He's entitled. His father was a big shot in the first war."

"Oh was he?" Eric said, and Fitz nodded.

"Ballard's a cad, at best," Fitz replied, and Eric nodded.

"Well there's no arguing that," Eric said, taking a deep breath, "You want the end or the beginning?"

"I'll take the end," Fitz replied, starting his walk to the back of the course, "You're ok filling them in?"

"Of course I am."

Fitz got to the end of the course as Jake was leading the rest of them up to Eric. He was glad that he didn't have to deal with him right away, but the way it was going – he had a feeling he'd chosen the wrong side. Ballard came barreling through the course faster than the rest of the group had even gotten over the first wall. He sighed as he looked up at the sky, waiting for Jake to crawl through the dirt, and pull himself up right in front of him.

"Sir," Jake saluted him as he stood up, then leaned down to brush himself off.

"Private Ballard, we do not do anything until the rest of our troop has finished the course," Fitz spat, and Jake stopped, abruptly.

"Yes, Sir," He said, and Fitz tried desperately not to roll his eyes.

For all the effort Jake Ballard had put into finishing the course first, the rest of the team only took another three minutes until the last one of them finished. He waited for the last – a skinny private named Eugene to catch his breath a minute, and all of them to line up together. He took a step back as Eric ran down the sideline of the course, and came to stand next to him. The men all lined up, and Fitz took a deep breath.

"You made good time," He told them, "First and Last do another mile on the track before they go to breakfast. The rest of you are dismissed."

"Sir," Jake sounded like a wounded puppy – which was exactly the sound he was trying to get out of him.

"Private Ballard," Fitz said, as the rest of the platoon headed off to breakfast, including Eugene who was off to do his extra run, "There is no reward for leaving the rest of your team behind you. Not even to show-off for me. Maybe if you spent a little less time showing off outside of training you'll be more used to it. Remember why you're here once in a while."

"Yes, Sir," Jake replied, and Fitz nodded as he headed towards the Canteen for breakfast with everyone else.

After breakfast there was a break in the schedule for cleaning time. The grunts would clean the bathrooms, and the bunks. This was the time that he was supposed to brief the rest of the commanding officers. It was probably the most boring part of the day, when they got what little information they could send out of France to reach their desks. It was boring, until he got to go the center and get his mail, then it was lunch before they went into afternoon drills. They had to get shots today, a new sort of vaccine or something – the commanding officers had got it the day before, before their night patrol.

"What're you doing tonight, Grant?" Eric asked as they were walking towards the Canteen with the rest of the platoon.

"Wait," Fitz said, as Ballard was walking by them, "Private Ballard."

"Yes, Sir?"

"I want you to report to the kitchens right after dinner tonight," Fitz told him, and Jake furrowed his brow, "You're helping the kitchen staff clean the dishes from today's meals."

"Pardon?" Jake looked as if Fitz had thrown water in his face, "I apologize, Sir, but – "

"For your arrogance, and lack of leadership," Fitz replied curtly, "That's all – enjoy your meal."

Jake ran off to join the rest who had gone ahead, and Fitz continued to walk with Eric.

"You run one hell of a tight ship," Eric commented as they walked into the canteen, "Anyway, what were you up to tonight – we're not on rotation."

"Oh, I don't know," Fitz said, taking a deep breath, thinking about how he was planning on spending the night catching up on some reading, or writing some letters.

"You're on a three night rotation," Eric said, "That means every third night is not your own. And you're telling me that you having noting planned for tonight?"

"No, I don't," Fitz replied as they sat down at a table.

His eyes flickered, at this point involuntarily, over to the nurses' table where Olivia Pope was sitting, talking with her friends. She had just about been the nail in any sort of coffin that he might soon be inhabiting. The second that she had walked onto the base, her and her friend, sent there after an issue of insubordination at their last base. There was just something about her – her beauty was obvious – but there was something else. And he wasn't about to figure it out, the night before when he walked Annie and her back to their barracks was the closest thing he had come to making any sort of close contact. He was trying to keep his distance, because she might as well have had the word 'trouble' tattooed across her forehead. But it was a small base, and seeing Miss Pope on the daily basis wasn't exactly something he could avoid and still do his job. It always had the same effect on him though, as if someone was ripping his heart down through his ribcage and stuffing it into his stomach.

"Come to the pub with me," Eric said, and Fitz shook his head.

"Go to that Frat party that happens down the street? No thanks," Fitz nearly spat his water out.

"Those Americanized shit-holes everyone else in this canteen goes to?" Eric shook his head, "No. You wouldn't catch me dead in one of those, either. I'm gonna bring you to the one I go to. It'll be fun, you'll see. There's a football game on tonight, so it will draw a crowd. They think the sport keeps people's spirits up."

"Football," Fitz said, taking a deep breath, "Which, is soccer here, right?"

"Well, it's not that beastly sport you blokes play," Eric pointed out, and Fitz nodded.

"Sure, why not?"

"Great," Eric said, taking a deep breath as he started to eat the potato that was on his plate, "Dress in your civilian clothes, and meet me in the hall around six thirty."

"Ok," Fitz said, he was still watching Olivia out of the corner of his eye.

"Sir?" A somewhat tired looking Nathan approached him, and Fitz leaned back.

"It'll just be Ballard tonight," Fitz informed him, and Nathan nodded, "He should report to you right after dinner. I'll try and get you more for tomorrow evening."

"Thank you, Sir," Nathan replied, and dismissed himself from the conversation, and Fitz turned back around.

"You're awful hard on him," Eric commented as Fitz shoved what looked like broccoli into his mouth with a fork, "I was there last night, at the gate – you're sure…"

"What?" Fitz asked, peeling any attention he still had on Olivia away, "Am I sure of what? Ballard has a major attitude problem that should have been beat out of him at basic training. But, because who his daddy is, they let him slide. At least that's what I think. And you know what else I think?"

"What?"

"I don't think German girls – German nurses – German soldiers care who his father is," Fitz said somewhat solemnly, "I don't think he can talk or charm himself out if he's captured. And I don't think that him not being the best soldier he can be will help him dodge bullets under German fire."

"Right," Eric said, glancing over his shoulder towards Olivia's table, "And that's the only reason?"

"What other reason would there be?"

"You Americans are so ridiculously stupid," Eric said, mostly teasing, and Fitz shook it off as he checked his watch.

"I'll meet you in the lobby, then," Fitz told him, and Eric nodded to him as he got up from the table.

"Ok."

Fitz went back and wrote a quick letter to be sent back to the states before taking a shower, and dressing to go out with Eric. His civilian clothes were buried under all his uniforms, mostly because he couldn't remember the last time he had put any of them on. He pulled out a pair of khaki's, a belt, and a button up shirt, along with his less formal shoes rather than his formals and his boots before heading down to meet Eric. It was interesting to finally actually start to talk to him, after being defacto 'friends' with him for a few months. They weren't exactly friends, but starting to go out on nights off – that definitely qualified, right?

"Look at you," Eric joked as they walked out the back gate and out into the street.

"Yeah, yeah," Fitz said, fixing his jacket, Eric had some sort of jersey on, "What're you wearing, a giant sock?"

"One of the guys in my platoon, he used to play," Eric said, and Fitz's whole stature dropped, "Relax, I'm just pulling your leg. You're always so serious."

"I wasn't expecting you to joke about something like that," Fitz said, as Eric pulled him into what looked like a hole in the wall type of bar.

"Don't look like that," Eric said, giving him a little glare, "It's good, don't worry."

Fitz just shrugged slightly as he led him over to the counter, and they sat down. The soccer game was already on the tv above the bar, and the 'pub' was filled with fans. The weird part was that they all had a different jersey than the ones that were playing. He had a beer, and remembered what Eric had said about it helping people cope with what was going on around them. They didn't care so much who was playing, just that they could take a side and cheer and drink together, still. They still had to live, even if there were air raids.

"Nice to get away, huh Grant?"

"Fitz," He told him, and Eric smiled.

"Eric, then."

Fitz sat through half of the game trying to figure out what exactly was going on. For a game he had never watched, he thought he was doing pretty well until two guys who had clearly had more to drink than he had, which may or may not have been saying something because he didn't know until he stood up. Which is when he had to admit, at least to himself, that he was feeling a little bit of something. The whole pub had turned into a chaotic pit behind him, all monsooned around the two men who had started the fight. Each man was yelling about something, and he wanted to make sure he got out of there. His vision being a bit blurry, he walked right into someone's punch. He swung back, not sure if or who he had hit before stepping back out on the street, starting to make his way back to the base.

"Sir?" He heard a voice that he had branded into his ear drums and he whipped around, stumbling a little in his trouble, "Easy."

"Miss Pope," He recognized her as she stood fairly close to him.

"Sir, you're bleeding."

"I am?" He put his hand up on his forehead and brought it down – sure enough.

"Here," Olivia pulled him over towards a bench and sat him down.

"No – you don't have to help me…"

"Relax," Olivia told him, pulling something out of her handbag, "You need to be cleaned up before you get on that base. I can make it so it looks like a scratch in the morning, but I need you to stay still – can you do that?"

"I can try," He replied, and even as he said it, he felt himself sobering up – and feeling a tinge of a burn on his head.

"Careful, I have to make sure it doesn't get infected," Olivia told him, and he relaxed more – his heart pounding.

"Ok," Fitz replied, knowing that he was still slightly intoxicated because he was trying to figure out whether he should say something.

Whether he should tell her that she was killing him, haunting his dreams, and making it impossible for him to do his job. Because Eric had been right, he was being harder on Jake after he had been even remotely flirtatious with Olivia. The more intoxicated portion of his brain was telling him that he should just casually tell her that she was beautiful – or that he loved her. But he decided to keep his mouth shut, she knew he was drunk – it would come off as insulting. He wanted to be sober when he first told her all those things –

"Do you need help up?" It took him a minute to realize she was standing, "I can walk with you back."

"I can get up," He promised, then realized he couldn't – what had they been putting in his drinks?

"Here," Olivia reached down and helped him up, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Your secret's safe with me."

"The one night I go out," He mumbled, realizing that she wasn't just insanely beautiful, she was perfect.


	3. March, 1944 - Part I

A/N: Hey, look what I just finished… Enjoy my friends :)

Stars & Stripes

March, 1944 – Part I

Olivia couldn't be sure, but the dynamic between Grant and herself may have shifted since the evening she had patched him up. The still seemed just as distant and strict with everyone else on the base. The next morning, it came out that Jake had skipped out on his kitchen duties and the whole platoon was punished. It was Jake and half the platoon doing dishes for two weeks, and then it was Jake and the other half of the platoon doing dishes for two weeks. Jake Ballard was no longer regarded any sort of highly with any of the men, or essentially anyone else on the base. She had seen Grant that morning, when he had come stomping into the infirmary and yelling even as the men were getting their new shots and vaccines. He pulled them all out into the yard - she imagined that he would have pulled them all out by the scruff of the neck like he did Jake, but he didn't have enough hands. However, for a second, he seemed to look over at her with a certain level of softness that she wasn't quite used to – from him, or anyone else.

"What's going on there?" Annie asked, as soon as they were a safe distance away from anyone else.

"Nothing," Olivia attempted to nip it in the bud, and shut her up quickly.

"Oh, please," Annie rolled her eyes before whispering back, "He's always had a soft spot for you, but that was – intense."

"Stop it, Annie," Olivia shook her head, "Your imagination is astounding."

"Just don't go falling in love with him, ok?"

Olivia hadn't even graced Annie's last comment with a response because it was so ridiculous. Grant, at first, was probably worried that she was going to mention his drunken night to his men. She wasn't going to – she was never going to. Then, she thought maybe he was grateful to her, that she had taken care of him, and not said a word. That maybe he felt some sort of loyalty to her for it. He didn't really have friends or people he hung around with on his off nights, except for Officer Schmidt. But then she started noticing him watching her slightly, out of the corner of his eye in the canteen, then across the yard. A look at the gate when she was coming back and he was on shift, and somehow she started thinking that Annie might have had a point – as ludicrous as it seemed to her.

"Liv," Annie snapped her out of her daydreaming thoughts as they sat across the canteen at dinner time, "My God you are in all kinds of trouble."

"What?" Olivia stopped staring across the room to shoot a look over at her friend.

"You want him," Annie said, shaking her head as they went up and put their plates and trays for the men to clean.

"I do not," Olivia replied, and Annie just gave her a weird look.

"Well, you would be the only breathing girl on the base who doesn't," Annie said, taking a deep breath, "And you'd be a fool because – even considering all the nurses on this base – you've got the best shot."

"Shut up, Annie," Olivia wasn't sure whether she wanted to believe her, or not.

"You think I'm lying, but I've been watching," Annie told her, as they climbed up to change from their work clothes, passing the woman who ran their barracks silently before continuing in their room, "I've been watching over your ass since we were kids, you were always managing to find yourself in the most awful predicaments. Remember? I think I would realize when a man like that is watching her every chance he gets. Stealing glances across halls, and more than checking her out whenever he's in the vicinity?"

"How does one 'more than' check someone out?"

"He loves you, Liv. He's just too chicken shit to say anything," Annie replied, "He doesn't make rude comments, or look at your figure inappropriately – that I've caught. But the affection is there, and occasionally his eyes flit to your ass, or your breasts but he is only human, and it's not leering."

"You really think so?"

"I know so," Annie replied, slipping on her more 'going out' attire, "And I also know that you should stay as far away from him as you possibly can."

"Excuse me?"

"Liv, I love you," Annie took a deep breath, "I don't want to see you hurt. I just don't see how something like that could end well for either of you. You signed up so that you could learn, and that you could make something of yourself – it's commendable. Getting all tangled up in that mess, I don't think it's a good idea. I'm thinking there's three ways it could play out – One being that you both really love each other and somehow figure out how to make it work back home. Two, you fall in love, and while I don't think he'll care about color, everyone else will and he'll leave. Three, he dies. He's a soldier, option three – the most realistic one, you two fall in love, and he dies. In France, or Germany, and you're heartbroken for the rest of your life."

"You're being silly," Olivia replied, as they headed back downstairs and stood in the doorway to realize that it was raining, "Are you sure you want to go out tonight?"

"Oh, c'mon, Liv," Annie rolled her eyes, "We need to get you off this base – immediately."

"Fine," Olivia said, popping open an umbrella for them to squeeze themselves under for the walk.

The walk to the pub the night was – somehow – much quicker than it was usually. Strange, because it had been her experience that whenever you were walking in the rain it took, or seemed to take, much longer to get where you were going. Maybe it had taken them longer, and she had simply been thinking too much about what Annie had been trying to say to her. She could hear Annie, still yammering on at they had walked, but she couldn't really decipher what saying, for the simple fact that she wasn't listening. The rain was falling a little too loudly onto the pavement, and there were too many other people out bustling around the sleepy little base town. It was a mistake, coming out, but she didn't realize it until she and Annie were walking into the pub.

"Liv, you always look so serious," Annie complained as she sat down at their usual table, "Relax a little. Sit down. We don't have to be back for hours."

"I've got a bad feeling," Olivia replied, quite simply.

It was more than a bad feeling, it was like having a boat's rudder stuck somewhere in the side of her gut. Her stomach would flip over it a thousand times if she would sit there and let it happen. There was some sort of internal switch that went off off in her head when something wasn't right. Her head then told her stomach to tie itself up in knots until she reacted. She could never quite figure out what it was in the moment, but in general she just knew that she should either hide where she was, or get the hell out, and as far away to a safe place as she could. In this case, it was that she had to get out of there, and back to the base.

"I think I'm going to head back," Olivia breathed, not even bothering to sit down.

"Oh, c'mon, Liv," Annie gave her a sympathetic look – she knew this routine all too well, "Alright. Take the umbrella, and make sure you get back safe. I'll just hop under with someone else who's going back."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Olivia could feel herself getting more and more panicky as she walked down the side of the road. That was until she could feel tears starting ot hit her cheeks, and took her umbrella down so that it wouldn't be obvious at the gate. She ran her hand carefully so it would look as if she had merely taken her umbrella down too early. Maybe she would tell them, if they asked, that the umbrella had broken. When she got there, she didn't know the man who was at the gate by name – only by face – and he didn't ask.

"Are you ok?"

It was a voice she hadn't heard in a while, barely louder than the rain. Because, for all the looked and glances, Grant had been keeping his distance. She looked up, and saw him: rain dripping off of his nose , much closer than she had been to him in a month. She was about to reply, but something in his eyes or demeanor told her that she wasn't going to be able to get by with a lie. He ushered her gently into the nearest building, which she soon realized was the film one. Where they got news clippings and occasionally a movie or a short to watch on the weekends.

"Sit down," Grant requested, not impolitely, and she did as he threw a blanket from the back onto her lap.

"What happened?" He asked, sitting in the row in front of her, twisting his whole body to look into her face.

"It doesn't matter," She tried to calm herself down, "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?"

"No," He told her kindly, as if he were actually concerned about her, "I'm off tonight. Now tell me what's going on or we are going to be sitting here for a while."

"It's nothing," Olivia replied, trying ot brush him off and taking a soothing deep breath, "Just a feeling I get sometimes."

"You were pretty upset," Grant reminded her, "And you're smart. You wouldn't get upset if it didn't matter. When did this start happening?"

"I was little," She admitted, "I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle – I got this weird feeling one night, but I didn't get up from bed. In the morning I found out people had broken into the house, and that my Aunt and Uncle were gone. That was when I moved in with Annie's family, so I didn't have to go and live with my Grandmother in Boston."

"If you had gotten up, they probably would have killed you, too," Grant told her, "You should thank that feeling of yours, it saved your life. You have good instincts, Miss Pope."

"I know," She replied, and he nodded.

"How old were you?" He asked, and she had to think for a second.

"Four?"

"I lost my dad about the same age," Grant told her, and she swallowed as he got up and sat down next to her, "I was raised by my mother and – "

"What?"

"Marie," He continued after a moment, like he was trying to figure out if he could trust her, "Marie passed away when I was fifteen."

"Was she an Aunt?"

"No," He replied, "And they couldn't pretend she was – which was probably the main problem. Marie was a woman who was supposed to take care of me for my mom while dad was away. She was amazing, and it seemed that after my dad died, mom thought so too. Anyway, it was hard for them to hide it, especially after I didn't need looking after. There were only a few rumors, nothing that really stuck – but one night when she was walking home, someone stabbed her, right in the heart. The doctor wouldn't even help her. I carried her right up to his door when I found her."

"Why wouldn't the doctor help?" Olivia asked, and Grant took a deep breath, she could see his eyes were slightly shinier than usual, "Oh, she wasn't white."

He barely shook his head, just once.

"I carried her right up to his doorstep and he wouldn't even look at her. She was bleeding all over me," Grant told her, and Olivia nodded solemnly, "He wouldn't even look at me – it was like he didn't even think she was human. So after a bit, and after cussing him out, I carried her home. She was gone by the time I got there."

"I'm sorry," Olivia said, taking a deep breath – it was helping to focus on something else, "So what did you do then?"

"We wanted to bury her in the family plot, they wouldn't let us," Grant said, "So, I took care of mom the best I could while I finished up school, and then enlisted – before the war. I had a small leave after basic training and I beat the crap out of that doctor, smug bastard – sorry. I've got a lot of anger, but I was a scrawny kid and I needed to get stronger before I could do anything. I probably shouldn't have touched him, but then I saw him and I just got so mad. I got a letter a couple years ago saying mom passed, but she passed when Marie did, really."

"Yes," Grant nodded slightly, "I don't often share that piece of my – "

"Don't worry about it," Olivia said, and Fitz nodded, "It's safe with me, Sir."

He laughed, maybe at her formality.

"You know it's funny," He said, "I liked the idea of joining up because you lost everything, and you started again. That's what I liked. they didn't really care what your background was, as long as you were willing to work. But I miss my name."

"What is it?" She asked him carefully.

"Fitzgerald – Fitz," He said, taking a breath, returning to a less emotional looking statue like he usually was, "Tell you what, when we're talking like this, you just call me Fitz."

"Ok," She said, not sure that she ever would feel comfortable doing so, no matter how candidly they talked.

"Anyway, just make sure you tell me if someone decides to try and bother you," He said, taking a deep breath, "We're all here for the same thing, so there's no need for anyone to be disgusting to anyone else. I won't see it. That goes for all the other girls, too."

"I'll let you know if I hear anything," Olivia said, and Fitz nodded.

"So why did you live with your Aunt and Uncle?"

"My mom died giving birth," Olivia filled him in, "And my dad didn't want anything to do with me, so he dropped me at my Aunt's, and eventually I ended up with Annie's parents. They were always really nice to me, they adopted me. They used to go to the same church as my Aunt and Uncle."

"We're a couple of pups, huh?" Fitz joked, and Olivia smiled.

"I guess," She replied, and he swallowed, "How long have you been here?"

"I got sent over with the first wave after Pearl Harbor," He said, "I was originally on the English base, and then they gave me this one. I still get the majority of the orders for this place – they usually come from a larger one closer to London."

"And here I thought you ran the show."

"Nope," He said, running his hand through his hair, and he looked over at her briefly.

"What?"

"You're feeling better?"

"Yes."

"Good," He said, checking his watch, "It's almost curfew."

"You don't have a curfew, do you?"

"No," He shook his head, "Or bed-checks."

"How old – "

"Twenty-seven," He replied, and she was surprised, "I enlisted at seventeen."

"Nineteen," She told him as they got up, walking over towards the door, "Annie and I joined after school was done."

There was pause, as he reached for the door to pull it open for her, when she realized how tall her was. He towered over her, in a gentle, friendly kind of way that made her feel safe. And 'safe' was not a feeling that she could say she felt all that often. She looked up at his face, and there was a strength in his jaw, his lips thin, and his brow as intense as it might have always been. His cool blue eyes were warmer, even though as she was watching they were going back to normal, the mask that he used to walk around the base undetected. The way that his hair fell over the very edge of his forehead – and for a second, she thought he might lean down and kiss her. But he didn't.

Instead, he walked with her towards the middle of the yard – the rain had stopped. And he blinked back what was left of what seemed to be his human side as Schmidt walked over to them.

"There you are," He smiled at both of them, "We were supposed to meet up, right? I didn't get my wires crossed?"

Olivia kept walking, and she heard the vagueness that was Fitz coming up with some sort of lame excuse for why he hadn't met him. She smiled to herself, still hearing the chatter behind her as she walked, and paused outside of her building. She made a quick glance over her shoulder, and saw that the rest of the girls were checking in at the gate. Fitz was delaying himself in the middle, making sure he saw her safely inside.


	4. March, 1944 - Part II

A/N': So I was planning on having this all ready before the episode on Thursday… but, y'know stuff happens. I also will not be writing a fanfic of Olivia being kidnapped [I know, but it sounds like something would do – and that's because I already did one] However, just like everyone else I am looking forward to Fitz killing everyone. Because there's no way that he's going to lose his son and Olivia for a presidency he didn't actually want for himself…. Anyway… Enjoy :)

Stars & Stripes

March, 1944 – Part II:

The letter that had been sitting on his desk was now crumpled and thrown somewhat haphazardly into his trash. It had made him angry, it had made him want to throw more than a wadded up piece of paper across the room. But he had to keep himself in check, even if he didn't want to, because the last thing he wanted was Eric knocking on his door concerned about noise. The worst part was that he wasn't even mad for the 'right' reason, he was mad – but it wasn't for the same reason that people would think. The letter itself had been from Adriane, his girlfriend of over three years. She was a civilian from near the base that she had been stationed at before the attack on Pearl Harbor, and before he was shipped out to England. They had only started dating a week before the attack, and for some reason he never really understood, they had continued their relationship via mail for the last few years. He really wasn't sure why they bothered, but it was still nice to have some sort of human interaction outside of the base-life. Someone to write letters to. Of course, the letter that was now in a ball in his trash was one that told him that she had never wanted a deployed soldier, and that she was seeing someone else. That she had been seeing someone else for some time, and that they were going to be married.

He understood that she had never wanted a military guy. He understood the thinking behind her actions, and he actually didn't care all that much about her exiting his life. He never intended to return 'home' to her or anything. There was simply anger, because he had wasted so much time. There were so many opportunities he had had with Olivia Pope that he hadn't taken because he was trying to be the 'good guy'. It hadn't stopped him from speaking more honestly with her than he ever had with anyone else. It had stopped him from telling her how beautiful she was, or how much he thought about her. It had certainly stopped him from kissing her even just the night before when they were leaving the film house. He had seen her eyes flicker, and she had expected him. He was going to write Adriane soon, tell her to find someone else – but apparently she had already been many steps in front of him, without a single care in the world.

It hadn't ever really been about Adriane though, it was more about him. He didn't ever want ot be 'that guy' who had a girl to write to from every place he's been. He didn't have time for it, and he didn't want those sort of relationships. He wanted one. One person that he really, actually loved as much as Marie and his mother had loved each other. It was only getting clearer to him that this person was Miss Pope. And while he didn't want to waste any more time for any reason, he had to pause. He wanted there to be a difference, an outward difference between the two of them. Not that he ever really cared at all for Adriane like he did Miss Pope. He just wanted to make sure that whatever it was that was developing between the two of them wasn't effected. He wanted Miss Pope so badly he could taste it. Taste her lips, the way she smiled, feel the way her skin felt against his finger tips. He wanted to make her laugh the way she did across rooms, where he had barely heard her, briefly. He loved everything he knew about her so far – the way she talked, the way she had looked at him. But even Adriane's existence seemed to taint everything that he might be able to say about his feelings for Olivia Pope. But it was so absolutely ludicrous that they should even be compared.

He needed to go for a walk – to get out of his room. Not that it mattered, but he checked his watch – it wasn't curfew yet. The base would be mostly empty, everyone still out getting fresh air for the evening. He needed to clear his head, he couldn't confuse and mangle up his feelings for Miss pope with his bruised ego over Adriane. He knew in his heart that the two really had nothing to do with each other, but he had to clear that up for his brain too. So, as he walked, he breathed. He breathed, and tried his hardest to smoothly avoid Miss Pope, and being alone with her as much as possible for the next week or so. No rash decisions, no sabotaging their timeline because of his own stupid ego. But it didn't stop him from not being able to take his eyes of off her. Not on purpose, just because of the way she carried herself, the way her hair curls in the rain. How he should have kissed her.

"Sergeant Grant."

He heard a voice as he was getting food from the buffet night at the canteen. It took him a minute to realize who it was. Annie was standing a little ways away, apparently having caught him in his own head.

"How are you, Miss Smith?" He asked casually.

"I'm trying to convince Olivia to come out with me tonight," Annie told him, "She's not feeling well, so I don't think she's going to cave."

"Well, tell her I hope she feels better," Fitz replied, taking a deep breath as he walked back to where he was sitting with Eric.

"You finally ready to take your head out of your ass?" Eric said it so casually that Fitz was taken off-guard, "You ditch me for her, and now you've been ignoring her? You're a bloody moron as far as I'm concerned. The girl is absolutely beautiful."

Fitz's grip tightened on his fork.

"I had a girl."

"Do you anymore?"

"No, not since Monday. But I guess for a while before that."

"So what exactly is the problem?"

"I'm a one at a time – "

"Oh, don't give me that bullocks," Eric said as he managed to get a piece of beef into his mouth, "Whether you were trying to or not, you've had two girls for months. You and Miss Pope were exchanging longing looks and you had a girl back home. You're not going to be able to undo that – but also, it's not like you could break up with her as soon as you realized. What you didn't know was to which one you were being disloyal – and I'll tell you. There's nothing more disloyal than holding yourself back from someone you know – and have known – in your gut was the right one for you for such a stupid fucking reason as another girl you don't really care about – or feeling like you should wait. Honestly, owe Miss Pope one hell of an apology."

"I'm a commanding officer, I'm not allowed to be – it's against the rules for the rest of the guys. It's worse for me. If even a whisper got back to my superiors I'd be court marshalled, and kicked out."

"Rules? That's what's going to stop you here?" Eric asked, "C'mon. What were you going to do, wait until you were out? There are ways of keeping things under wraps. Ask half of your own platoon. They're all having – relations – with girls on the base, they just keep it all hushed up, all of them. No one's going to go looking for stuff like that."

"Right," Fitz said, taking a sip of his water, and swallowing.

He looked down at the rest of his meal and decided that he wasn't hungry anymore. What did Annie mean that Olivia wasn't feeling well?

"So I'm guessing no pub for you tonight?"

"I think I'll skip it, thanks," Fitz said as he got up from the table, watching as Miss Pope got up from hers.

He very carefully meandered his way out of the canteen, so that he was leaving just a minute or so after her. He didn't want to raise any heads or eyes, or make her frightened. Fortunately, he had timed it nearly perfectly because as he was walking out, she was about halfway across the empty yard, just about to pass the film house. Speeding up just enough to catch her, he walked up next to her, and then turned so that he was standing in front of her. Something Marie had always stressed. "If you're going to go through the trouble of speaking to someone, you best look them in the eye. And that's everyone, you hear me, boy?" He took a deep breath, realizing the look she was giving him.

"Yes, Sergeant?" She asked, maybe a tad coolly – and he saw the immediate remorse in her face – she hadn't meant it to sound like that.

"I was wondering if I could speak with you," He said, somewhat softly as his eyes darted over to the film house.

"Of course," She said quietly, as he opened up the door and they disappeared inside.

"I heard you weren't feeling well," He said as he turned the light on, making sure the curtains were pulled.

"Well, that happens when you're out in the rain," She said, "I'm sure it's just some sort of cold. I'll be fine."

"Right," Fitz replied as he leaned against the back row, and she just sort of looked at him.

"What's this about?" She asked him, and he could tell she wanted to say more.

To accuse him of ignoring her for a week after they had talked, like a scared little child. A coward. He had been a coward, of sorts, about it, and she wanted to call him out on it. He could tell that she did, but she kept herself from saying it. He didn't know how, because in a reversed position it would probably be the first thing out of his mouth. But instead she just stood there, waiting for an answer – but he was just happy to be in her presence again.

"I-" He started to speak, and then stopped – wiping what had to be the most ridiculous grin off of his face – she seemed surprised that he was sputtering, "I – I can't get you out."

"What?"

"I can't get you out of my head," He said, taking a deep breath, then spitting it out in one exhale – she looked surprised, but not really.

"Then why didn't you kiss me?" She asked, by the looks of her face surprising them both.

"I-"

He froze. This was not something he wanted to tell her. He knew that he had to, that it was the only explanation that even halfway made sense for his recent actions.

"I had a girlfriend," He said it to the ground, and then looked up.

He shouldn't have looked up. The look on her face was not one that he wanted to see. The confusion, anger, and irritation that was there.

"Oh," She said, as if she had heard enough, and turned to leave.

"No, no," He said, reaching out and getting her hand before she got too far away, "I said that I 'had' a girlfriend."

"So, what? She left you?"

"Miss Pope, it's not like that," He said, taking a deep breath, "Will you please just let me explain?"

"Is that an order?" She quipped – and he let go of her hand.

"No," He said sadly, "Not at all. It's just a request."

She sighed, seeming to decide to try and hear him out.

"She wasn't – we had only been together about a week when I got shipped over here," Fitz tried to explain, "It was never really all that serious, and she sent me a letter Monday that said she was going to get married to some guy back home. Which is fine, I don't care."

"You don't care?"

"No, not really," He said, taking a deep breath, "It was just a little bit of a surprise. I can't prove it now, but I was going to write to her and tell her to find someone else, anyway."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because she's not the only one who's found someone better," Fitz shot back, "Someone that they actually care about as opposed to someone to write letters to and pretend. Someone that they actually want to be with. Now are you going to let me finish?"

She nodded.

"I took the time away from you to make sure that you didn't think that this was just happening because my ego was bruised," He said, taking a deep breath, "That's why I haven't spoken with you, ok? That's why I didn't kiss you, and that's why I haven't - you deserve better than something like that. We deserve better than something like that. So, I gave it a little time so that while there was already quite the difference to me, that it was obvious. I knew I was going to tell you about her eventually, and I didn't want you to ever think that she meant anything to me. Because she didn't. I want you to know that you – you're – I didn't want you to have any doubt. So If I could distance the two situations I thought maybe… I don't know what I thought, because it was stupid. I missed you like hell, and there were so many times I wanted to – "

"You're rambling," She teased him, and he raised an eyebrow, "It's just I've never seen a commanding officer of your position all – stuttering, and rambling."

"You're making fun of me."

"Only a little," She replied, and he rolled his eyes.

"You clearly haven't met many commanding officers," He continued, taking a second to calm himself down, "I'd like to see most of them even try to string a sentence together."

There was a silence that fell after he finished his sentence, that eventually he thought might kill him. She seemed to be considering him, and he was trying to tell himself that her choosing to stay several minutes ago was a good sign. With his hands down at his sides and leaning back on the row of seats, he realized how vulnerable he was. He cleared his throat after what seemed to be several minutes, and then she blinked. He was about to open his mouth again, maybe give her a little more of a direct question when she reached out and took both of his hands, pulling him back up to his feet.

"What're you doing?" He asked her as she led him into the aisle.

"You'll see in a second," She replied, shaking her head at him as she reached up and put her arms around his neck.

"Miss Pope.."

"Olivia. Or Liv."

"Liv," He said it as part of a deep breath, and she smiled.

"You're too tall, get down here," She said, after a few seconds of trying to pull his neck down.

"What?" He asked, smirking slightly, "I – "

He couldn't get any more of the words he was thinking about. Something to say in order to fill the silence, and she reached up and put her finger across his lips. That shut him up fairly completely, except for maybe what she did next. She removed her finger from his lip, and pressed her own lips against his instead. He took about a half a step back, out of surprised before he realized that she was leaning against. He stood back up straight, wrapping his arms low around her while she started to nip at his lower lip. He picked her up, surprised at how little she weighed, as he carried her towards one of the seats in the front, sitting down with her in his lap. Opening his mouth to her, he realized that it was better than he had dreamed.

"Mm," He mumbled as she pulled away, settling her head on his chest, "What was that for?"

"Well, after last time I wasn't going to wait for you to kiss me," She replied, checking his watch, "I have a shift in fifteen minutes."

"Ok," He said, still trying to catch his breath as she reached up and seemed to be fixing his hair – he had a vague recollection of her running her hands through it, "I'm on patrol in twenty."

"We could just sit here for a minute more."

"We can."


	5. April, 1944 - Part I

A/N: Hello all, how's the winter break treating you? Yeah, it sucks. And I'm sorry this took as long as it did – there's always so much to do. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Stars & Stripes

April, 1944 – Part I

Annie was the only one on her side who knew – they had decided that it would be best if only one person on each side knew what was going on. He had – no surprise – chosen Eric, and it ended up nicely. The only two people who knew about their relationship other than them had already known about for some time. She had been expecting a certain amount of blowback from Annie, but all she had gotten was a nod and something of a mumble about it not mattering 'at this point'. The sad part was, Olivia knew exactly what she meant. Annie's first three scenarios as to how this would pan out – with the exception, Olivia was almost certain, of the one where he gave into peer pressure and left her – were still valid. However, the complications and risks didn't really matter because she was already in love. She was already attached, already more emotionally involved than she had ever been before. It wasn't like they could go public – no one on the base was allowed that, no matter what the circumstances were. She assumed it would be different ig a couple was married, but no one was. Well, no one was married to another enlisted member on the base.

"Miss Pope," Fitz nodded to her at breakfast, a subtle reminder that they were meeting up later that night.

"How are you this morning, Sergeant Grant?" She asked casually – never calling him 'sir' anymore – as per his request.

"Liv," Annie walked over, "We should get going. We're supposed to set the wing up for the physicals today."

The smirk on Fitz's face told her, that if they weren't surrounded at the canteen, he might have had a smart remark for her. Probably something to do with the idea of her checking him out, 'taking care of him'. Something along those lines. She watched as he committed whatever comments he was thinking of to memory so that he could tease her with them later, then smiled and followed Annie out into the yard. It was still early, so it was just her and Annie crossing the yard, and they were the first people – besides the two patients: one for dehydration, one for a busted leg – in the infirmary. The one who had broken his leg was one of Fitz's, and Olivia had teased him mercilessly about having someone caused him to fall off the wall and break it on purpose.

"You have to be more careful," Annie told her as they walked into their half of the wing, "His eyes are going to give you two away. You should warn him to keep them off you in public. Don't get me wrong – any woman would kill to have any guy look at them like that – but it's very obvious. It's almost like everyone else is intruding on something."

"You're not," Olivia teased, but made a mental note of Annie's warning.

"One night you have to take a break from him, and tell me all about it," Annie complained, and Olivia chuckled.

"He synced our schedules," She grinned, and Annie rolled her eyes.

"Of course he did," Annie replied, "He spends every second he can with you."

"He's – "

She broke off as she heard the other nurses starting to wander in for the shift. She didn't have a visual, but she didn't have to see them to know who they were – especially when they started talking.

"Did you see Sergeant Grant at breakfast?"

"Relax, Jen," Olivia heard Carolyn, the head nurse, say to her little lackey, "Wipe the drool from your chin."

"Oh, please," Jen replied, "He's gorgeous. I bet he's well off, sometimes you can just tell. Too bad he's seeing someone."

"Who told you that?" Carolyn snapped a little bit – like all her hopes and dreams had been dashed.

"It's in the rumor mill," Jen said, pausing to take a deep breath, "Makes sense though, you never see him after hours unless he's on patrol. He's secretive enough about his life – I don't think I've ever heard him talk other than when he's barking orders at the guys."

"It's best not to speak of things you know nothing about," Carolyn said, somewhat cockily.

"And you know?" Jen teased her, then fell silent, "Oh, I _knew_ it would be you. How is he?"

"Jen, that's enough," Carolyn replied, "Now give me his chart – like I'm going to let anyone else touch him…"

Carolyn was a bitch. It was well known, but never spoken about because everyone was afraid of her. She was also, very obviously to Olivia, lying. Fitz had synced their schedules, they spent every free night together before curfew. There wasn't enough time for him to be juggling two girls on the same base. He was a very clean cut sort of guy – she knew him, and she didn't doubt him. The annoyance that Olivia was feeling was not really anything to do with Fitz. More to do with the arrogance and stupidity of people like Jen and Carolyn. The way they just took things, and lied, and cheated. Because why wouldn't Fitz want Carolyn? Wasn't that what was supposed to happen? Head nurse, the head sergeant? It wasn't 'supposed' to be her that he liked. Her that he bent over backwards to spend as much time as he could with. Who he liked to hold for as long as she would let him.

"Leave it alone, Liv," Annie told her, having been standing right next to her, "Fitz wouldn't – "

"I know," Olivia assured her in a hushed tone, "But no one else does. No one else knows how sweet and gentle – "

"Whoa, you don't even sound like yourself," Annie said, trying to bring her back.

"It's just – he's not a piece of steak – "

"He is," Annie said, to Olivia's surprise – enough surprise to shut up, "He's tall, really muscular, has a great jawline – but yes, he's more than that, too. But you're the only woman on this base that he's allowed in enough to see that of him. He doesn't even really talk more than a couple words around anyone else."

"He talked to us before we were – "

"He did, but only when you were around," Annie said, taking a deep breath as they started to restock the cabinets.

"Of course," Olivia replied, mostly under her breath.

"Hey, Carolyn and Jen are bitches – everyone, except maybe the men know it," Annie told her, and Olivia nodded, "He loves you. We can tell that, even if he hasn't said it yet."

"Yeah," Olivia replied with a sigh as the rest of the nurses came in, the soldiers starting to line up outside.

The only problem was, Carolyn and Jen's conversation kept echoing and playing over a10nd over in her head. The way that they were talking about him and the way that Jen just assumed that it would be Carolyn that had caught his eye. Why not? She was tall, and blonde, and had big blue eyes. Never mind her half assed smile that made her look like a movie villain and her caddy attitude. The Fitz she knew would never pair well with that. He would end up blowing his brains out if he had to hear about make-up, nail, and what kind of clothes she wanted – who was getting the first seat at the table at the next tea. He wanted a brain, like hers – he wanted her brain. He wanted someone that he could have an actual conversation with. But that one thins she said, 'like I'm going to let anyone else touch him.' Olivia hadn't even thought about it. The physicals today, they were supposed to be medical, but Carolyn had snatched up Fitz's chart like it meant they were going to ride off into the sunset. Together.

She didn't like it. She really, really didn't like it – at all. She wondered if she could somehow signal Fitz to run away, that she would do it later, then fill out his chart after. But that sort of thing didn't seem feasible. Once the soldiers started streaming in the doors, it would be hard to even catch a breath until they were done for the day. But the whole situation, Carolyn, Jen, Fitz, just seemed to weigh her down as she gathered shots for the soldiers. More and more, like the echoing in her head was radiating through her body. Annoying her, irritating her, and really starting to sting.

"Liv?" She vaguely heard his voice as she walked into their spot, the old film house.

"Hi," She said quietly and looked up as he walked over, smiling.

"Hi," He said, then kissed her in greeting, "Everything ok? You seem upset."

"Don't worry about it," She tried her hardest not to smile.

"Something with the infirmary?" He asked, concerned, and she felt ridiculous.

"Yeah," She took a deep breath, "It's just stupid things."

"Oh," He replied as he whisked her off to sit down, pulling her down into his lap, "Mmm, I missed you today. I can't wait until this is all over. When I can take you with me. We won't have to deal with your curfew, or – half the shit we do here."

"Mm," She mumbled lightly.

"So, I talked with Eric last night when I got back," He was nearly whispering as he brushed his lips against her temple, "And he offered up a minor, very temporary, solution to our problem. We both have leave this weekend, and I was trying to figure out something to do together – so, Eric offered me his car, and his family's old country house."

"What?"

"I'm taking you away," Fitz told her, "From the base, from everything a for a full forty-eight hours. Where we can be together, and not have to hide. We can just be us."

Olivia smirked as she reached up, and started playing with his hair. He returned her smile somewhat dreamily, leaning into her hand as she stroked it through. She was crazy, all her thinking before because it didn't matter. Germany was losing, and they were going to be done with this war, and soon. Then it wasn't going to matter what Carolyn and Jen thought about anything, as long as Fitz still wanted to be with her. They were going to make it out of this, and then they would figure out the rest. And they were on the same page. He wanted to take her on vacation, he wanted to be normal, and he – Sergeant Grant – was counting down until he could leave the army. It wasn't something that she had ever thought she would realize about him.

He closed his eyes slightly as she ran her fingers into the side of his scalp. Fitz murmured softly, and she smiled a little more as the wax in his hair was letting go from the day and it was starting to show the curls she knew were underneath. Which was what made running her fingers through his hair at night one of her favorite things.

"I'd love to see these curls not all weighed down," She said, reaching up and encouraging one in the front.

"Right," He said, taking a deep breath, "Well, I don't think people would take me very seriously if I was walking around her with baby curls. However much you may like them."

She laughed.

"I don't think anyone would dare say anything," Olivia commented, taking a deep breath, "They're all too scared of you."

"Ballard isn't."

"Ballard's an idiot."

"You're not scared of me, right?" He went to check, and she pressed her face into his shoulder, so that she wouldn't laugh out loud, "Right – stupid question. And good, I'd hate for you to think like that."

"Ballard was giving you trouble today?" She asked, somewhat eager to change the subject.

"He's been acceptable for a while," Fitz said, "After the whole dishes incident. The rest of the guys aren't quite ready to forgive him. But they're starting. He's keeping his nose down – but that attitude, it's still there. The arrogance and I'm running out of ideas on how to get it out of him."

"Some people just don't change," Olivia replied, bringing herself up and kissing the side of his forehead, "There's really nothing you can do if he wants to hang onto it that much."

"True."

"Did I ever tell you about my father?"

"Just that he ran out."

"Well he ran back, too," Olivia told him, going back to playing with the curl behind his ear, "When I was about twelve he came back – looking for me. Annie's dad just about had to stand in the doorway to keep him from charging in. He's got a bit of a nasty temper…"

"So I guess it was good he left," Fitz replied, giving her a quick squeeze, "Did he leave?"

"Yeah," Olivia replied, nodding, "And then I started getting cards on my birthday, things like that."

"Was he trying to – "

"No," Olivia shook her head, "He was scheming. When I was sixteen he showed up again, and I let him take me for lunch. Big mistake."

She shuddered a little bit, and Fitz furrowed his brow, kissing her forhead.

"It's ok, you can tell me," He whispered.

"No, it's just – he hadn't changed, at all," She continued, "It scared me, that he could just show up like that. What was going to happen when I wasn't with Annie's family anymore? I couldn't live there forever, and he always managed to track me down."

"Well, I don't think he's going to find you here," Fitz told her, and she nodded.

"Neither do I," Olivia replied, "I'm just nervous that one day I'm going to get to the canteen, and there's going to be a letter for me waiting from him."

"Well, if that happens, you just let me know," He told her, pressing his forehead into her temple, "Is that what was bothering you earlier?"

"No, not really," Olivia said, and he tilted his head.

"You can tell me that, too. You know that, right?"

"I could. It's really just stupid though."

"Mhmm," He said, taking a deep breath as he looked up at the ceiling, and she was quick to move in and kiss his then exposed Adam's apple, "Hey, easy."

She pulled away.

"What?" She asked him, and he just smiled.

"I have another surprise for you," Fitz said, very carefully removing himself from underneath her.

"You do?"

"Eric's on patrol tonight," He said quietly as he got up and headed towards the back of the room, "And we tested it out last night while everyone was sleeping that if we shut all of these…"

He pulled down the remaining blinds that they hadn't bothered pulling.

"What're you doing?" Olivia asked him, as he went back and flipped on the movie machine.

"As long as we keep the sound lower than –there," He adjusted the knob, then walked back over to her, checking his watch, "We can watch a movie, together, before you have to go."

"That Eric's a good guy."

"Well, I was telling him that I'm getting tired of not being allowed to take you out – so we managed a few ideas," He said, sitting down next to her, and taking her hand, "I promise, no more sitting in here talking for hours on end."

"But I like talking," She replied, and he nodded.

"Alright, so do I," He said, "But, just remember to let me know if you get bored. I have quite a list now."


End file.
